Waiting with Gratitude

My current location is the surgical waiting room of a local hospital where I wait while my man has a day-stay surgery that started four hours late.  We waited together for several hours in a prep room, he more impatient than I because the last food intake he had was nearly 15 hours ago.  I have done this surgical waiting routine more times than I want to admit.  We thought his surgery days were past after an unbelievably busy medical year in 2011, but here I sit again due to the unexpected and unwelcome health issue that popped up last week.  But, it is at times like this that I realize how fortunate we are - he has medical insurance unlike many others, this surgery is relatively minor compared to those I've seen today who are facing more worrisome procedures and I have family and friends who are praying and sending positive energy to us.  As with others, our relationship has its challenges and moments of glory and I sit here grateful for all we have experienced together.  Even in the dark times, when we held on by a thread, I knew we had a strong bond that kept us dreaming the same dreams.

Our relationship has been a series of challenges - some are common, some are unique.  Being from different cultures, we had to be open about sharing and experiencing one another's customs and habits.  Our cultural give-and-take has left us both better people.  I learned to love mate, an Argentine tea, and dulce de leche, a Latin American caramel-type spread and he learned to cook for a vegetarian, something he never dreamed he would do.

I was used to life in the country and he was accustomed to life in the fast-paced, crowded northeast, but we both adjusted to life in the small city where we reside.  We have many of the same cultural interests - plays, concerts, museums, bookstores, lectures - and here we found many events to keep us entertained and informed.  He has introduced me to foreign films from South and Central America, as well as tango and other Latin music, and he enjoys the bluegrass music of the south and has learned much about the history of Florida and developed a love of the artists who capture the lakes, springs, hammocks, beaches and wildlife of our state.

Our first year together included one of his daughters, my adopted daughter and, later, her brother.  Our blended family often had a rough time and by the end of the year, he and I were alone - good in some ways and sad in others.  Now my daughter and her two children are back with us - an adjustment that thrilled me, but was hard on him.  Coming from a large family and having several children of his own, he was relishing our life as a couple living without other family members and obligations, but he has made the changes necessary to allow me the joy of having my daughter and grandchildren with us. 

I am a person with few limits and he is one with many.  I tend to accept everyone and everything at face value and he has taught me to proceed with more caution, to be a bit more discerning.  He tends to hold back and observe, sometimes being more judgmental than I like.  I have taught him to be a little more open and accepting.  

We have cried together over deaths in our families and struggled through a variety of family, financial, legal and medical problems. We have shared old friends and made new ones.  We have watched neighbors move in and move out and houses be bought and sold.  After eight years, we have a history where we live.  

He took me to Manhattan and I took him to Mount Dora.  We both love the intensity and variety of the city, but the cold and the high living expenses limit us to yearly visits to our favorite metropolis.  Mount Dora, on the other had, is easily accessible and affordable and the weather, though very hot in the summer but no hotter than where we live now, is very agreeable the rest of the year.  The coffee shops, restaurants, museums, shops, theater, and parks of Mount Dora make it a culturally diverse town where we can find plenty to entertain, inspire and educate us.
    

There are days we don't like each other very much and days when we cannot imagine ever being apart.  Sometimes we talk a lot, sometimes not so much.  We get annoyed and irritated with one another and we laugh together and share the secrets that only the two of us know.  We read the newspaper together every morning, often read in bed at night and watch our favorite shows, Touch and Super Soul Sunday, together, sharing comments and observations.  On occasion, we don't want to be in the same room at the same time, but we never want to sleep without one another.  I know I am a better person because of him and I hope he feels the same. 

But most of all, I am grateful for the fun he brings into my life.  In the muddy darkness of a sad marriage, I had lost my sense of fun.  Really, I had even lost my memory of fun.  He gave that back to me.  The laughter, the jokes, the playful teasing.  And that is what I remember during these times of waiting.  The fun.  Life is supposed to have some light-hearted moments. In spite of the hard times, the disagreeable times, the head-banging, incomprehensible times, I relish those moments of fun that have filtered through our days together.  Perhaps those moments add up to less time than the difficult hours, but they are the moments that make this life worth living.

Footnote:  It is nearly 11 pm and I am bone tired after a long and very frustrating day.  After delayed surgery, hospital staff confusion, changed hospital rules about visitors, hospital construction that made getting from one place to another difficult, and some issues with residual effects of anesthesia, I am relieved that I was able to bring him home today.  His surgery went well, just everything else surrounding it that was a confused mess. Today was not fun, but having him snoring beside me is.   

Change in the Air

I have wanted to write for weeks now - longed to write - but there was no time.  I am still busy at work, more so than I usually am this time of year and I took on an extra one-time job that I thought would be quick and easy, but has evolved into something more complicated and time-consuming than I ever imagined.  I am watching my grandchildren even more than usual while my daughter is working some untypical hours for training at her job.  And, I have been sick, again, or still.  Bronchitis cleared up, allergies started, while allergies were still in full force, a cold commenced.  My energy and my time have been challenged on many levels.  I have longed for Mount Dora to the point that I dreamed about it one entire night this week.  Plans have been made to be there, but not soon enough for this weary woman.

I am feeling more optimistic - a little.  I need more hope and more time that is not filled with obligations.  I need to write more.  I need change.  I need to change.

It all starts with “me” needing to change.  I can hope for those around me to transform.  But, those are truly just wishes and I, or you, really have no power over others.   I can hope for life to take a turn for the better, but that will only happen if I make some effort or institute some changes to help that happen.

I have been thinking a great deal about changes I can make - maybe not big ones, but, at least, little ones.  Sometimes that is all it takes.  Not even changes that seem to relate to desired results, but just changes - small ones that change the energy in my environment.  It is amazing what a change in energy can do for your life.

I have neglected my gratitude journal - something I promised to do daily when I started this project.  My journal fell by the wayside when I was going through so much in December and January.  Overwhelment destroys gratitude.  One change I am making is to be more diligent about my gratitude journal - maybe not every day, but at least several times a week.

I was doing some guided meditations to help me sleep last year, but they became unnecessary when medications knocked me out every night during my various illnesses or when I was so exhausted that I nearly passed out as soon as I laid down.  To add meditation to my “change list”, I have signed up for Oprah’s & Deepak Choprah’s 21-Day Meditation Challenge.  Wish me luck!

The last few weekends I have set aside a few hours to work on my house (again) - straightening, cleaning, organizing, clearing.  My grandchildren are growing and need more room for themselves.  I have concentrated on creating that space for them, which means getting rid of unnecessary stuff that was filling our house.  The work is hard, especially when I am working a lot and still ill, but the results are satisfying.  The house and the energy within it are changing and change is what we need.

Change has to do with starting anew and although all of these activities are good,  they are not really changes - more like reinstatements.  All things I once did, then neglected to do and have now restarted.  What can I do that is truly new, truly different?  I am stumped, but still thinking about it.  It has to be something that does not require a regular schedule or too much time.

For some reason I get stuck - don’t we all?  Stagnant.  Dormant.  Sometimes those states of inertia are necessary.  Rather like a bear in hibernation.  Time out - down time.  A period of rest and healing.  My current stuck-ness does not feel much like rest or healing.   It is more of a busy stuck-ness - a moving-all-around-and-going-nowhere stuck-ness.  A time of too much, rather than too little.  But, it all boils down to the same thing:  either you are inert and going nowhere or you are running in circles and going nowhere.

I need changes that take me off the path of nowhere and on the road to somewhere.  

Just after writing the last sentence, I saw that an email had arrived that I was waiting for.  I put aside my blog writing and read the email.  Then, I saw my Daily Om message - www.dailyom.com - which I had net yet read.  I read the message called Defense Mechanisms and have set it aside as a topic I may want to cover in a future blog post.  Then, my eye caught the list of online classes offered my Daily Om - a list that is always at the end of each daily message, but which I had not noticed or read in a very long time.  One of the classes listed was “The Best Year of Your Life” presented by Debbie Ford.  I was intrigued and clicked on the link.  The class is one lesson for 52 weeks and I signed up for it.  Now that is a truly new change.